


Forgotten

by etrix



Series: Falling Up [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Day of the Dead, Gen, Haunting, Humor, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-26
Updated: 2008-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etrix/pseuds/etrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Hallow’s Eve is the night when the veil between living and dead is the thinnest. Some people remember their dead fondly. Cloud... does not. They remember him, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten

* * *

"Hey, shrimp," Reno said in greeting. He was swaying slightly, head tilted back so he could look at the seated blond without having to look through dangling hair.

"Call me that one more time, _Reno_ …"

"Fuck, Cloud. I waited ten years to get to call you that again. Do you really think your little threat will deter me?" He sat down in his chair, placing a full glass in front of Cloud and two in front of himself. "Here, have another one." He lifted his own glass, paused, eyes squinting at the delivery boy... daring him to refuse.

"I dunno, Reno, drinking too much on All Hallow's Eve just seems like a really bad idea."

"Oh come _on_. It's a great fucking idea—especially at one of _these_ parties." One of _these_ parties, Cloud sighed. A semi-official affair hosted by Edge's resident Mr. Big; Rufus Shinra. Former Scourge of the World, he was proving to that same world that He'd Changed. He was doing it by donating lots of money to the WRO and various other rebuilding projects, and by hosting these 'social events' where million-gil deals were arranged and allegiances were proposed, and everybody pretended to like everybody else.

There was nothing social about them for Cloud. He didn't want to shake anyone's hand, or have his back slapped one more time. He didn't want to look at any more over-exposed cleavage or to dodge more butt-pinching assholes… of either sex. Nor did he want to dispose of yet _another_ phone or room number. Why did he let himself be talked into this? But he knew why he'd come. Because the redheaded steamroller sitting across from him had asked, and nagged, and pleaded until Cloud had finally surrendered.

This was exactly like that time, back before 'The Incident', when Reno and Zack had talked him into joining them in a Widdershins Day prank. They'd painted Heideggar's bathroom the virulent pink of a bottle of Pepto-Bismal and topped it off with eye-popping, imaginary sea creatures… in 3D. He'd been look-out and he'd fucking _sucked_ at it. When General Sephiroth had walked by and asked, quite casually and friendly-like, what a cadet was doing on the officer level, he'd frozen; eyes wide, mouth open, breath rapid and stuttering out something that just screamed 'doing something I'm not supposed to'.

Of course, Sephiroth decided to investigate.

Neither Reno nor Zack had stopped grouching at him the whole time it took to run one hundred laps of the training field… with full packs… in the rain. How they thought it was _his_ fault Sephiroth had picked the one rainy day that Midgar experienced in months? Well, it wasn't fair, that's all.

He hadn't remembered that incident until Reno had talked about it. There were a lot of memories he'd recovered because Reno had talked about them. How did you thank someone for giving you back yourself, your life?

You came to crappy Shin-Ra parties and let yourself get pawed at by drunks and assholes, that's how.

"Pick it up, Strife. _Fuck_ , it's just a drink."

Cloud picked up the drink and took a sip. His eyes watered and his throat burned. Nibel Dragon Apple Brandy; distilled from the potent Nibel wine and apple cider, and guaranteed to affect even the most enhanced individual. It was having a hard time with Cloud's much altered system, but it was definitely having an effect. "I don't think this is such a good idea, Reno."

"Why not? When's the last time you got drunk?" The redhead tipped his chair back, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it in one smooth motion. He seemed hardly drunk at all, but that could be because he had lots of practice.

"Your graduation day, I think. I don't remember it so well so I was either suffering Gongagan Flu or I was drunk."

"You were drunk," Reno stated, laughing softly, lips quirked, "It's the only way I could get you table-dancing."

Cloud's eyes widened, "Wait, what? You didn't." His look of absolute horror was enough to make the Turk roll out of his chair, he was laughing so hard. "You didn't, right. Tell me you didn't."

Reno gasped, wiping his vivid blue eyes, and grabbed on the edge the table. "Maybe you did. Maybe you didn't. You'll never know… unless I have photos of course."

Cloud crossed his arms defensively, "You suck," he pouted, "And you've just given me another good reason not to get drunk."

Reno just grinned slyly. He took a satisfied drag from his cigarette and looked at his friend through the smoke. "So what's the first reason?"

He startled Cloud out of his brooding over events long past, "What?"

"You said I'd given you 'another reason' not to get drunk. What was the first one?"

Cloud laughed a little, but it was an embarrassed sound not one of mirth, "It's stupid."

"So are these parties. Give."

The blond leaned forward on the table, resting his head in his hands. "You already know I've been feeling kinda jumpy lately, so if I drink too much tonight I'll be drunk, nervous _and_ armed. I've killed Sephiroth and his clones, too many times. I'm _used_ to killing silver haired people and on All Hallow's Eve what do people dress up as to keep the big, bad monsters away? Sephiroth."

Reno stopped with his drink halfway to his mouth. "You think you're going to accidentally kill someone."

"I don't know," he rubbed his hands over his face, feeling so very tired all of a sudden. "I don't want to find out and I'm afraid, that one kid too many's going to jump out at me and I won't be able to stop myself."

The Turk leaned back in his chair, a sharp, assessing look in his eye. Cloud looked ready to snap, almost worse than when he'd had the Geo-stigma and everybody was riding his ass wanting this, that and the other. He dragged the blond to this shindig so that he could relax some. He'd forgotten that Cloud didn't really _know_ how to relax. "Tell you what," Reno said, letting his front chair legs slam down on the floor. "Drink what you want and I'll make sure you get home without slicing off some little kiddies' head, Alright?"

"You're going to be even drunker than me. No way I'm getting in a car with you-"

"Fuck, man, you are sooo Lower Plate. Shinra's got cars on standby for this little get-together. Nobody's driving themselves home." He grinned, hooking one thumb into his front pocket, "Whaddya say, shrimp, is it a deal?"

Cloud looked at him, in his rumpled and untidy suit. He looked like the poster child for drunken unreliability. He wasn't though. He never said what he didn't mean and he never promised what he wouldn't make good on. He picked up his glass of near-toxic Apple Brandy and took another sip, "You are _such_ a pain in the ass."

Reno smirked happily; he'd won after all. "Naaah, but you'd like me to be. I know it. Everybody wants a piece of Reno."

* * *

  


It was embarrassing, but Reno'd had to unlock the stairwell door. Cloud hadn't quite managed to match any of his keys to the three keyholes in the door. It hadn't helped that he didn't remember there being three keyholes before. And the building was swaying.

"Do you need help getting up the stairs?" the Turk asked and Cloud couldn't help but know that the redhead was laughing at him, and probably storing up even more blackmail material for future use.

He hadn't felt this drunk at the hotel where the party had been. Sure, okay, Reno'd kept him supplied with Nibel Dragon, but he'd eaten… stuff. Maybe not a lot but it had been food and food was supposed to absorb alcohol, right? And of course his system was all weirded out from the mako and the Jenova cells and all the other stuff creepy Hojo had done, so really, he didn't get drunk anymore. He couldn't. Then he'd tried to stand up.

That's when he realized that the floor was uneven… and moving.

Nobody seemed too worried about the earthquake, though, and it wasn't like there were any more plates to collapse on them, and Reno was laughing. So he decided that maybe it wasn't the floor, maybe it was him. Then he thought that even if there were earthquakes or plates collapsing, Reno would still be laughing because that's just what Reno _would_ do.

He'd never realized just how big his feet were before. He kept tripping on them. Reno'd needed help walking too, because he'd braced himself against Cloud, which was nice but, like Cloud tried to tell him, probably pretty dangerous because he hadn't had a chance to adjust to his new foot size and if he fell he'd take the redhead with him.

"I'll risk it," was all the Turk had said before draping Cloud's arm over his slim shoulders and directing his feet out the door. Cloud didn't remember the ride to his place but he must have passed out because he'd woken up with his head in Reno's lap. As aware as he was of the suggestiveness of the position, at least the Turk had refrained from doing more than smirking at him. Now he was home, still somewhat drunk although that seemed to be wearing off fast, just some residual unsteadiness and some double vision, well… maybe triple vision but it was still going away.

"Do you need help up the stairs?" Reno asked again. He wasn't impatient; in fact he leaned against the wall and took out a cigarette as if settling in for a long night's wait.

Cloud took a tentative step. The ground was stable, mostly. His feet went where he placed them. He stretched his arms out then brought his hands in to touch his nose. He came very close. When he looked at Reno to answer the question, the Turk was grinning blindingly wide, his shoulders shaking in a silent laugh.

He wasn't going to ask.

"I'm good."

"You sure?"

Cloud nodded. He was pretty sure, besides he had all night to get up the stairs. He could make it in time. "Righty, then. I'm gonna mosey. I probably won't see you for a couple days because as far as I know, having mako for blood doesn't protect you from hangovers, and I know what your temper's like," He pushed away from the wall, leaning close to Cloud, "and I'd hate for you to use your big fucking sword on me." Then he was gone and Cloud was convinced he was drunker than he'd supposed because that had almost sounded like…. He shook his head. The world spun. He was drunk that's why he'd heard that tone in Reno's voice. Reno wasn't into guys. He'd never been into guys.

With that settled he turned himself around and started up the stairs to his second floor apartment. He'd outgrown the room above Seventh Heaven and it had been time for Denzel and Marlene to stop sharing. Now he had this place, close to the bar but separate from it. He was the only one in the building. Fenrir and the delivery business took up the ground floor and he lived above it. It was convenient and it suited him. It was also damn lonely sometimes.

He'd thought, in some vague way, that he'd bring someone back to it occasionally, maybe for one night to start with but maybe for more than that. It hadn't happened yet. Most people he met were too conscious of who he was: _The_ Cloud Strife, world saviour and torture survivor. They were either too awestruck by his fame or too freaking curious about his scars, both mental and physical. None of them were interested in him, plain old Cloud Strife, who struggled to pay the bills and tried to do the 'right thing' whenever he could figure out what _that_ was.

They wanted The Hero or The Victim. They didn't want a guy who suffered from morning breath and got gas from eating extra-hot Wutaiin; someone who enjoyed silly kid's cartoons and burned the toast. Like all those shallow people at the party tonight who offered to 'polish his sword'. Five would get you fifty that if he'd gone home with any of them, it would've been in the gossip papers tomorrow first thing.

_Fuck_ , he was never drinking again. He braced a hand against the wall and worked his way slowly up the stairs. He was sliding into that same state he'd been in when he'd had Geo-stigma; feeling all angsty and sorry for himself. Zack would bitch-slap him if he could see him.

Of course, Zack was part of the problem, wasn't he? Zack Fair, SOLDIER's bright-eyed prodigy. Life was a wonder to him, a banquet to be enjoyed by all. He'd been Cloud's first lover, his first _love_. He hadn't been monogamous but Cloud hadn't expected him to be. He was so full of joy and light that he'd always had more than enough to give to Cloud no matter whom he'd been with earlier. And he'd always come back. No matter where he'd been or who he'd been with. He'd come back to the suite they'd shared at Shin-Ra HQ and grab Cloud to him as if the blond were water and he'd been kept in the desert for months and years.

Then there'd been Aerith. He knew now that part of his attraction to her had been a bleed-through of what Zack had felt, but he'd also loved her on his own by the end. If Zack had been zest and fireworks, she'd been a cozy snuggle on a cold day. No pressures, no expectations… just simple appreciation of _this_ instant right _here_.

Who could measure up to those two?

He was so lost in his thoughts, as spirit-sodden as they were, that he didn't notice the wall's texture change from cheap plaster to something smoother, sleeker, more expensive. He didn't realize that he wasn't in the gloom of his unlit stairwell anymore. He was somewhere else. It wasn't until a silky baritone whispered in his ear "I could measure up, I'm sure," that he realized that the world had changed on him.

Before he could grab Tsurugi off its harness, the weapon was pulled from him and flung into the darkness. "You can't say you were never curious about what it would be like to share my bed," the voice continued, hidden from him by the dark. A light came on above him, bright and blinding, and making it even more difficult to see where his enemy was hiding.

"Show yourself, Sephiroth," he ordered, and shifted to a battle ready stance. He only had his fists but he would use them if he had to.

"Is that who you want me to be?" the voice whispered in his ear, stirring fine hairs and causing Cloud to shiver in reaction.

"What?" Cloud said; knocked off balance by the odd question and how his enemy had asked it.

"I asked if you wanted me to be The General?" The voice was over there now, steps away. He looked in that direction only to be blinded. This light was centred on a tall, muscled body, perfectly sculpted as only science and magic could do. He sauntered toward Cloud and the light followed him. "I've always been rather fond of this form. It is pleasing in shape, flexible and has great stamina. None of my other lovers have ever complained," he purred. One long finger reached out and stroked down a soft cheek.

Cloud raised a shaky hand to his head and was scrubbing it as if to clean out his eyeballs. Sephiroth stalked behind the blond. "I don't have to use it though, if you'd prefer something else."

Another light blazed suddenly, spotlighting a familiar figure, "I can be your beloved if you like, if that makes it easier." Cloud couldn't breathe. _Zack!_ That stance, that grin, the glint in those eyes... It was Zack. "Ah, you like this one don't you, Cloud." It was like being dipped in ice water to hear _that_ voice from _those_ lips.

"You're not Zack." He tried moving sideways out of the light, but it followed him, keeping him blind with only the body of his dead lover to look upon.

"I never said I was. However, I gather that this form isn't sufficiently enticing." The light winked off and Cloud was left with afterimages blurring his vision.

"Maybe this one." He was behind him now and close. Cloud spun, fists raised, only to pull up short when presented with wide, green eyes and soft brown hair tied back with a pink ribbon. "Being a female might be interesting. I've never been uke before. Are you willing to expand my experience, Cloud?"

"Not even slightly." What the _fuck_ was going on? He was sure he hadn't drunk enough to cause hallucinations. "I'm not putting up with this shit," he announced and started walking. The light moved with him keeping him blind to what lay outside the beam. He put out a hand expecting to crash into a wall any moment.

"It's All Hallow's Eve, Cloud. Had you forgotten?" The form beside him gave a little skip-hop and tripped along beside him. Just like Aerith had done. Cloud didn't look at, at the illusion. It didn't help; Sephiroth was starting to sound like her. "All Hallow's Eve is when the boundary between the living and the dead is thinnest. Since I'm dead and you're living, it seemed like a perfect time for a visit. Don't you agree Cloud?"

"No I don't. Why don't you just go back!" He couldn't stop the panic from rising. Where was the fucking _wall_? This was his place in Midgar not the middle of the fucking Corel Desert. "Why are you doing this?" He didn't want to be here, facing Sephiroth unarmed and unnerved by his shape shifting.

"Because I can."

It was the perfect explanation for so many of Sephiroth's actions since Nibelheim. "You know, I respected you once. When you didn't act like a spoiled little boy who'd had his toys taken away."

"You could be my toy, Cloud. Then maybe I'd leave this world alone." He definitely sounded more like Aerith now and that statement was oh, so wrong when spoken in Aerith's light and gentle tones.

He didn't want that. He didn't want his worst enemy to take the shape one of his lovers. His stomach clenched and he stopped moving. "I don't believe you."

A sad sigh and Sephiroth returned to his original form, all pale, naked skin and long silver hair that glowed in the light. "I never wanted to be your enemy, Cloud. In fact, if Zack hadn't gotten to you first I think we could have had such fun together." He was right in front of the blond again and Cloud hadn't even seen him move. Strong fingers gripped his chin, tilting it up for his perusal. Acid green cat-slit eyes moved deliberately over every feature. Cloud tried to jerk away but Sephiroth just tightened his hand, "Maybe it's not romance you need," he mused.

His chin was released, the light switched off and Cloud was once again alone but not. He pressed his eyes shut, and reached out with his other senses: his hearing, his smell, trying to identify something, _anything_ that could give him a clue about where he was. He heard a faint 'pop' and the area beyond his eyelids got bright. Resigned, he opened his eyes to see what new form Sephiroth would tempt him with. However, when he turned to look, it was all he could do not to throw up.

Corporal William Descartes, Class A4, rapist and murderer stood under the spotlight in the old ShinRa army uniform. "Maybe you like things a little rougher. Is that it, Cloud?" and the voice was _his_ voice, the same one from his nightmares. It made him feel exactly as he had all those years ago. His heart was thumping. He couldn't feel his legs. He was breathing too fast. Everything was blurring at the edges. He was going to throw up, or pass out, maybe both.

No he fucking wasn't, he thought in the next instant.

He wasn't a skinny little, untrained, fourteen-year old anymore. He was a solder, a warrior. He may not have his weapon but he'd been taking lessons from Tifa for years. He'd never be in her class, but he was still a decent unarmed fighter. He'd snap Descartes neck without even blinking.

"Fuck you, you son of a bitch! I'll kill you again if I have to," he promised. No way, not _ever_ was that body going to get anywhere near him again.

"So fierce. It looks delightful on you, Cloud. Makes me think of taming you." He paced a wide circle around the blond, keeping out of arms reach, perhaps sensing that Cloud would indeed do his best to kill him in this form. It didn't stop him from taunting the little blond fighter. "Maybe I don't want you to be my toy, maybe I'd like you to be my pet. I'd get a lovely studded collar to go around that pretty neck. Would you like that, Cloud?"

Cloud was turning with Sephiroth/Descartes. He was doing it slowly but it was still making his head spin. Fucking alcohol! Fucking All Hallow's Eve. He was never fucking listening to Reno _ever fucking again_ , he vowed, because being angry was way better than being terrified, and he would _not_ be terrified of this thing in front of him.

Descartes was _dead._ He'd killed him himself. He'd taken a gym weight and pounded the bastard's head flat over ten years ago. "Descartes is dead! You're all dead."

Sephiroth/Descartes stopped moving. He lowered his head to look at him from under long lashes that this body had never had. Descartes' form flowed away and Sephiroth's was revealed once again. "They _are_ all dead, aren't they, Cloud," he said as if he'd had a revelation. Cloud said nothing, unwilling to take a chance on saying something else that would give the insane General ideas. "It wouldn't be Rufus. Too much like his old man, I'm sure. A liar, a betrayer-"

"You should talk!" Cloud scoffed.

Again, Sephiroth tipped his head, giving the small fighter an amused look from under inhumanly long eyelashes, "Very well, Rufus is too much like me. Too much like you as well, after all you _did_ give me the Black Materia."

"You were controlling me, you bastard," Cloud protested, realizing the futility of it even as he did.

In a blink, Sephiroth was behind him, his long hands stroking up muscled arms; long hair draped around them like a curtain cutting off the outside world. "Would you like me to control you now, Cloud, so that you can pretend that you had no choice?" His voice caressed the nape of his neck—it wasn't an accident. His hands moved from arms to stomach and hips and his fingertips dug in so very lightly it was almost like it wasn't happening. "I can do that for you, if you prefer."

Odin's Balls, Sephiroth was good at this; the sultry voice, the not-too-light caresses, it was as if he was made for seduction.

Cloud cursed. His body was responding although he wasn't sure if it was Sephiroth, or if it had just been that long since anyone had touched him this way.

"Of course, I'm dead too," Sephiroth purred. He gave the exposed neck before him a sharp little nip, and then he was gone. Cloud's back felt cold without that long body to warm him. He certainly hadn't felt dead.

It was time to start walking, running even, rather than stand here and be a target, he decided. The general would have a harder time seducing him if he were on the move. He started jogging and again that annoying light stayed with him, outlining him, blinding him to what was ahead. He didn't care. Crashing into a wall and knocking himself out would be better than this game of cat-and-mouse.

"This one's not dead though." It was only because he'd gotten used to Reno popping up beside him unexpectedly that he didn't stop and give it all away. "I bet he reminds you of happier times when you were young and the future looked so certain. He used to drag you into living didn't he, Cloud? That's why you want to have sex with him."

Cloud didn't bother to respond. The voice was all wrong, thank the fucking gods. Sephiroth's voice was too clipped and precise, not nasal and lazy—not Reno's.

The general turned Reno's form around and ran backwards in front of Cloud. "Zack used to let you top him. Do you think Reno would let you do that, or would he be like me? I never met anyone I'd play submissive for. Of course there is one major problem. He's not gay, you know that." Cloud ignored him and ran faster, muscles moved, blood circulated, air pumped in and out. If he concentrated on those things maybe the hallucination would go away.

"I'm not a hallucination, Cloud. No matter what you think, I can be real for you. This body," he waved long fingers over it, drawing attention to fox-bright hair and those matching tattoo slashes, the unbuttoned shirt that revealed a slim, sexy neck that Cloud had munched on in midnight dreams. "This body can be real for you. I'll pant for you just like he would, beg you to fuck me harder, just like you want him to. It can be real."

"No, it can't," he was puffing although it wasn't from the running—that barely had him breaking a sweat. No, his chest was tight because at last, during this long, freaky nightmare, Sephiroth was offering him something he _wanted_.

"Yes, it can, Cloud. Take it. You know you want it."

Oh, he wanted it, wanted him. Sometimes it was so bad it made his heart stop. A tilt of the head, a sideways glance and Cloud would have to look away or he would've stepped up to that sexy face and kissed those thin lips. It wouldn't have been a gentle, questioning kiss either, but a full-on claiming kiss with tongue. And Reno would've kicked his ass for it and he would've ended their friendship for nothing.

"You'll be able to claim these lips, taste this skin. You'll hear this body moan and make it shake for you. Imagine, sliding your cock deep into this perfect little ass. What would you give for that, Cloud?"

He'd give anything, everything to know what it was like, just once.

He couldn't see where he was going, but it wasn't the light anymore, it was the tears gathering and falling in a steady stream. This was too painful.

"It won't be just once, Cloud. It will be always and forever. All you have to do is say yes. Say yes and come with me, Cloud. You'll never be alone again."

He had to stop, he had to. He couldn't do this anymore. He didn't want to play this game. "This isn't real. This is a lie. You're lying and I hate you," he shouted, although his voice was hoarse and it was more of a croak.

"Hate's very close to love, don't you think? They are both _passions_." He bent over so that Cloud could look into bright, blue eyes surrounded by soot-dark eyelashes. Cloud had always liked Reno's eyes. "Any passion is better than what you have now. A dull, grey existence where the highlight of your day is watching a silly children's cartoon."

Sephiroth's Reno wasn't even sweating. They'd just run flat out for close to twenty minutes, and there wasn't a dark patch or even one little bead of sweat anywhere on that pale skin. Cloud stared at it, stared at that face, and Sephiroth's Reno smirked in triumph.

"You're not real," Cloud declared and erased the smug look from that perfect face. "You're not real," he repeated, "and this isn't real." Cloud lifted the hem of his shirt and wiped the sweat and tears and snot off his face: a disgusting mix of bodily fluids that came from being alive and human and in pain.

Sephiroth had forgotten what that was like. He hadn't made his Reno human and one thing Cloud knew Reno was very, very human. He smelled like cigarette smoke all the time, and alcohol a lot of the time. This Reno smelled like nothing. He was a void.

Suddenly there was a clock in the darkness and not just any clock, the large-faced clock that used to be on the arch above the entrance to Loveless Avenue. It was nearly midnight. That was significant. Why was it significant? He glared at the clock as if it could provide answers.

Sephiroth stepped in between, blocking his view. "I can be real. _This_ can be real. All you have to do is join me, Cloud. That's all. Just say you'll be with me, and then we can be whatever we want to be. Anything and everything you want will be ours. We can pull Zack out of the Lifestream for you, or your pretty little flower girl. There's no reason you shouldn't have them too, if you want. You do want that, don't you Cloud."

He was staring at the fake Reno in dawning horror. This wasn't about him at all. It wasn't one of the general's sick mind-fucking games, at least not completely. This was about Sephiroth and what he wanted and he wanted Reunion. "I don't have any Jenova cells anymore. The Geo-stigma was cured."

Reno snorted, and his eyes changed to acid green. In a flash his body was gone and Sephiroth's was back, leather coat and harness in place. "Your Geo-stigma was cured, but you'll always have a part of Jenova inside you—Hojo made sure of that—and you know what that means, don't you Cloud."

Cloud backed away from the intimidating warrior. He wasn't trying to entice the blond any more. He didn't even think he'd try to threaten him into submission. Sephiroth was, in his quiet and controlled way, utterly fucking furious.

"It means you'll _never_ be rid of me."

Cloud hadn't backed away enough. As the bells began to toll midnight, Sephiroth moved in with a twirl and backhanded the blond with all the force he could muster. Cloud went flying. Sephiroth followed.

One bell. Two.

Sephiroth grabbed the smaller body in mid-flight and slammed it down to the ground. Cloud bounced a little on landing, but managed to roll to his feet to meet the next attack.

Three bells. Four.

Sephiroth had Masamune out now. He swung. Cloud dodged, and Sephiroth smiled as if it were all good fun.

Five bells now. Six.

Cloud slid toward the silver-haired swordsman, intent on sweeping his feet out from under him. Sephiroth lifted off and shifted over a few feet. Floating down in a graceful landing.

Seven. Eight. Would he make it?

He charged forward, silver hair flying behind him, Masamune held almost like a lance, ready to skewer the blond as he'd done before.

_Nine._

It was Cloud's turn to jump out of the way. He wobbled his landing, physically a little drunk still and emotionally worn.

_Ten._

Before he could regain his balance Sephiroth landed a solid kick high on his chest. He heard something crack.

_Eleven._

Sephiroth didn't even bother to run over to his collapsed form. He strode toward the blond, Masamune at the ready until he was standing over Cloud. He smiled, an evil, insane smile of the tormenter, and raised Masamune high, "I'll see you next year, Cloud," he said and brought the blade down…

Twelve bells. All Hallow's Eve was over.

Cloud looked up. Sephiroth was gone. He was in his room, on the floor. The sun was bright in the window.

"Fuck, yo. I knew I shoulda helped you into bed. Whacha do? Walk into the door or something." For a moment Cloud's breath hitched. Was this really Reno or was it part of the nightmare? "No more Nibel Dragon for you, you D3 pussy. I bet you got a hangover the size of Hojo's ego."

The Turk ambled over to him, grabbed an arm and pulled him up. Cloud nearly doubled over from the movement. The pain in his chest; easily identified as cracked ribs and bruised muscle, hadn't been caused by passing out and falling onto the floor.

It had been real. Sephiroth had been real.

And he'd promised to come back.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a cheerier episode to follow, as I couldn't leave Cloud in such a nasty place.


End file.
